Synesthesia is the ability of one feeling to activate another. For instance, a taste with a sound or a color brings up a smell. When I thought about killing, it made all my senses buzz louder than a fire alarm. It felt bright as the sun, tasty like Shanaya’s burger, and sounded like birds singing on a summer morning.

Although it had been a long time, I was ready to get back in action and make a statement. I had promised it to the knife that saved me, and I never turned back on my word.

Taking lives is a ritual as serious as cooking. Searing the meat on both sides, letting it deepen the flavors and become soft, preparing side dishes, appetizers, main courses, and desserts — demands technique and patience.

During both, experiencing the second was the hardest for me. Desire ached in my chest as I grew eager by the second. I’ve learned from a young age we need to allow time to flow independently.

Exercising that ability brought the delightful surprise I had after my bath. I wrapped myself in a towel and read Mia’s message. It was filled with concern regarding my situation, but also relief. That horrible waste of energy had left me alone.

I couldn’t answer honestly because what happened to Richard was planned. I told Mia how happy I felt to have her by my side through such a difficult period. She said I could count on her and asked if I had a minute to spare.

That sentence was almost part of a daily liturgy. Over the last months, I learned it meant Mia had something to get off her chest. After she started noticing the signs of Richard’s cruelty and possessiveness, she felt safe to tell me about how her husband did little or nothing to help or tend to her needs. He also kept his money to himself, only saving a small share to fulfill his duties with Josh.

Life itself was Daniel’s stage, and he had the lead role of a great pretender. Mr. Nice-guy sounded like the wrong nickname for that rotten narcissist, and Mrs. Jones noticed it too late in their marriage. Now she suffered with a man-child living under the same roof as her and my son.

I gave her some credit; she had been a good caregiver to Josh all these years. I remember the foul taste in my mouth when we first saw each other, but after she let me in and shared her private life, I realized there was more to her than met the eye.

Mia was a calm, kind, and honest artist who painted beautiful landscapes and sold them in a collaborative store and over the internet. That’s why she was sensitive to others and a perfect witness to my suffering.

She thanked me for reading, and I said it was no problem. Once she kept in touch, I felt safer with her on the line. She’d be the first to know if anything happened to me. Mrs. Jones assured me the past was gone and a bright future lay ahead. I only needed patience to wait for it. And she was absolutely right. Josh would soon come to his mama, and we would be happy again.

* * * * *

December 24th, late afternoon. Snow covered the roofs, people sang carols everywhere, and the streets were packed with last-minute shoppers. I had left Shannaya’s apartment after watering her plants when I received a call and a picture from her vacation trip to Brazil.

She wanted to escape the cold, and since the staff in the restaurant were so nice and competent, she thought it was a good opportunity to fulfill her dream and spend time on the sunny beaches in Rio de Janeiro. I told her not to worry, wished her the best on her trip, and I would wish for her safe return after New Year’s Eve.

Shannaya was concerned because I told her I had received weird messages from Rick saying we would spend time together and that he couldn’t wait. She suggested I go to the police and show them, which I did. But the officers who welcomed me seemed unfazed by her worries and my plea. They took notes and gathered screenshots, nothing else.

As I walked down the street, trying not to bump into other people, goosebumps ran down my neck. I looked around, not able to shake the feeling of being watched. The sensation grew stronger as I approached my car in the half-empty lot, further away from the main drag. I pulled my keys out of my purse, quickening my pace. 

That’s when a massive person came up behind me and pressed my body against the door. I ignited the button for the alarm and saw passersby looking my way through the reflection in the glass.

Steele held and squeezed my wrist. He shoved me around to face him.

“Hello, honey. Did you miss me?”

Although still huge, Rick had lost weight. Dark circles appeared under his eyes, and he smelled gross. His hands were shaking. My silence to his question infuriated him, and his face reddened with rage.

“It’s been a while since we last saw each other, and this is how you treat me? You haven’t learned a thing I’ve taught you?”

He peeked above my head and realized more people had gathered in the parking lot.

“Now that I have no more students to share my attention with, I’ll give you a private lesson.” He said through clenched teeth.

The towering man opened the back car door and pushed me in. He got into the driver’s seat, locked us in, started the engine, and hit the gas.

“Richard, stop this nonsense,” I pleaded. “It will be worse for you; I have a protective order. You still can rebuild your life!”

He howled with laughter when he saw my teary eyes in the rearview mirror.

“I knew you were dense but clueless? Beats me. No one on earth wants to give second chances to a man with a protective order on him. You wronged me once, Tess, but I’ll ensure you never do it again.”

He sped up, and I was thrust against the seat.

“No funny business back there, or you’ll spoil all the fun. If I see your face in the mirror one more time, I’ll crash this car into the next tree.”

* * * * *

The change of landscape gave me hints about where we were going. When Richard stopped and unlocked the vehicle, I opened the passenger door, got out, and ran. He seized me with ease and dragged me inside his house. 

His place resembled the streets around Shanaya’s, where I used to live before she took me in. The stench of sweat, booze, and trash made me retch. All the windows were slightly open, letting a breeze enter, but it wasn’t enough to make the foul smell disappear. He had no furniture, just a chair and his plasma TV.

He barricaded the door and stood near it.

“It feels like I’ve waited an eternity for this, Tessa.”

“Things don’t have to be this way, Richard. Let me go.” I screamed.

Steele rushed at me and slapped my face hard. I fell to the floor.

“Shut up, you bitch! This is my house; you will learn to show respect!”

A glass and a bottle of vodka sat on the TV stand. He walked over to them and took a drink.

“This is all your fault. Every place I turned, someone knew what you did to me. The last time I went to the gym, the girls stopped hitting on me and called the manager. He had the balls to tell me I wasn’t welcome there anymore!”

Rick looped around the room like a wolf circling its prey.

“I had to sell my things to continue taking my roids and buy food because nobody hires someone charged with assault, Tessa. Nobody!”

He picked up the bottle, shoved it into his mouth, and emptied it in large gulps. When he finished, he threw the bottle on a pile of others in the corner and walked toward me.

“Even mother-fucking Barbara felt she had the right to do the same, and bam! There was another protective order against me. She’s got cameras around her property, and now I can’t kill her dogs.”

He cried a little, whispered, “I’m not a sissy.” With the sleeve of his shirt, he wiped his eyes, punched the wall, and screamed.

“You are the one to blame for that, Tessa! You, and only you. I did nothing wrong. I am a man. You women want to rip us off our masculinity. I won’t let you do that to me.”

Richard took a deep breath, hunkered down near me, and scoffed.

“But look at you. Not so brave now, huh? You’ll get what you deserve, and nobody will miss you, Tessa. Even the black sack of fat Mrs. Davis will be so entertained with her Christmas dinner she won’t remember you until maggots eat you out.”

I erupted into a belly laugh. I couldn’t remember the last time I had done that. It felt good. Steele looked puzzled. He was drunk but sober enough to keep his balance in his position, grabbed my hair, and pulled my face up.

“Did you lose your mind for good, or is desperation kicking in now that you’re about to die?”

“I’m just thrilled Barbara did it.” I calmly said.

“What are you even saying? Did that slap loosen a screw? You used to take it harder, Tess. You’ve become soft,” he giggled.

I reached for his cheek.

“No, you idiot. I watched your little show so you could tell me what I wanted to know. Now, it’s time to start the real spectacle.”

He frowned, just to grimace afterward, when he felt my blade slice his right Achilles tendon. Rick yelled and let go of me. The alcohol had kicked in. He lost his balance, fell to the ground, and held his wounded leg, weeping.

“What have you done, you damn witch?”

I stood up and ran my fingers through my hair, smoothing it into place. My cargo pants and purse carried everything I needed—I’d been waiting days for this moment, and finally, it was here.

“This makes you even more disgusting, Richard. You only think about yourself. Today is when you realize you messed with the wrong person. But don’t worry. Soon, your miserable and useless life will have meaning.”

Editor: Lucy Cafiero